


Sneak Peek

by Grimalkenkid



Series: Fire Emblem Kinktober 2019 [7]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Ignatz "I must paint this beautiful man" Victor, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 13:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimalkenkid/pseuds/Grimalkenkid
Summary: Ignatz happens upon an open window at night and feels compelled to capture the scene he witnesses on paper.(Kinktober 2k19, day 2, "Voyeurism")
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Ignatz Victor
Series: Fire Emblem Kinktober 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518194
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Sneak Peek

“If only I had a darker blue…” Ignatz mumbled to himself as he strolled along the back halls of the dormitory. In his hands, he turned over a half-painted canvas, a test of sorts to see if he could capture the beauty of the late night sky over Garreg Mach. It was a good deal better than his attempt to paint from memory, but he couldn’t solve the issue of incorrect pigments by a mere change in location. So, he packed up earlier than expected and made his way back to his room. “I wonder if any of the merchants in town carry something in dark navy…”

“Ahhh~”

The painter stopped in his tracks as he heard a low moan drift from one of the nearby windows. While it didn’t sound pained or distressed, Ignatz couldn’t suppress his anxiety-addled mind from urging him to take a look, just to make sure. He backed up and investigated the source of that delicious sound, finding himself looking straight into Ashe’s room. The window was propped open to allow the cool, summer air in, and the curtains appeared to have been closed… but a stray gust must’ve blown through, as one curtain panel was caught to the side, allowing the painter a clear view of the room beyond.

Ignatz immediately froze at the sight he beheld. Ashe was lying naked on his bed, one hand languidly stroking his manhood while the other trailed lightly over his chest. The painter knew this was a private moment, that he should turn around and walk away, leaving the silver-haired archer to his pleasure. But a powerful force compelled him to crouch down and keep quiet, to observe the sight before him as it was. Ignatz knew that force well; he felt it wrap around his being any time he gazed at the mountains during sunset or happened upon a wildflower growing amid a field of tame tulips.

Ashe was beautiful.

Ignatz always had a boyish crush on the silver-haired archer, ever since their school days. Ashe carried the burden of knighthood well, embracing its honorable tenants with kindness and cheer, so unlike the painter. And yet the archer never held that against him, always willing to lend a hand and a smile. Sometimes, Ignatz would make up chores for himself just so he could ask Ashe for help. After the Blue Lions’ reunion at Garreg Mach, those childish attention grabs morphed into more openly flirtatious banter, though nothing had yet come of it.

_ Oh, this is wrong, _ the painter lamented internally.  _ I should apologize for seeing him and then leave. Yes, that is what I should do. _

But it wasn’t what he did. Instead, he pulled a sketchbook and pencil from his satchel and absentmindedly flipped to an empty page. Ashe looked exquisite, and Ignatz simply couldn’t keep himself from capturing the sight on paper.

Ashe was stretched out on the sheets, as if giving the painter an unobstructed view had been his intention. Ignatz could count every freckle that peppered his body, from the clusters on his face and shoulders that trailed down his chest to intermittent flecks by his naval and down his legs. There were even a few on his inner thighs and hip, so close to his thick length that Ignatz could just imagine trailing kisses down the archer’s body, following those brown spots until he took Ashe in his mouth. The painter licked his lips and glanced down to make sure the rough sketch was satisfactory.

Looking back up, Ignatz paid attention to how he was moving. Ashe’s lean muscles flexed as he tried to find purchase in the plush covers, arching his back when he ran a thumb over his slit. His self-control must’ve been unmatched, as the archer’s pace never faltered, still stroking himself with long, steady motions even as his breathing came sharp and fast. His other hand began wandering without aim, swiftly settling on a nipple and rolling it between his fingers. That drew such a long moan from the silver-haired archer that Ignatz was truly surprised Ashe didn’t come right then.

The painter wished that he could capture the delightful sounds drifting from Ashe’s lips with his brush, but he settled for sketching the slight flutter of his eyes as he gasped and sighed. The archer’s hair had long ago fallen away from his brow, resting on the sheets about his head like a silver halo. Ignatz had a perfect view of all the blissful expressions that graced the archer’s delicate features, and he dutifully drew each one. After all, he had no idea if he’d ever witness this beautiful sight again.

Suddenly, Ashe stopped and sat up. Ignatz froze, wondering if the archer had finally spotted him, but relaxed ever so slightly as he saw Ashe reaching over to a small vial on his nightstand.

_ Wait, is that…? _ The painter’s eyebrows shot up as he saw Ashe pour a small amount of the liquid into his hand and coat a few of his fingers with it. Ignatz held his breath as the archer lay back down, eyes still closed as he reached even further between his legs to tease at his asshole. The painter couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but he could guess that, from the way the archer winced and how his eyes scrunched up, he was working his slick fingers inside himself.

“Where is it?” Ashe mumbled as he resumed stroking his length with feather light touches. “I know it’s there, where— Oh!” He bucked into his hand, green eyes flying open for the briefest of moments before screwing shut in pleasure. “There! Ah, Ignatz… right there.”

The pencil fell from Ignatz’s grasp. He wondered if perhaps he’d heard the archer incorrectly, but as the painter’s eyes wandered up from his sketch, he heard Ashe once more cry out in ecstasy.

“There, right there,” Ashe gasped, curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. “Oh, Ignatz! Harder. Please, I can’t last much longer…” His pace finally increased, stroking his manhood firmly as he squirmed from the mounting pleasure. “Please… I’m so close, Ignatz.”

Ignatz forgot how to breathe. The sketchbook was practically forgotten as he gazed at Ashe.  _ He’s thinking about me, _ the painter thought, pulse beating frantically in his ear.  _ Ashe is pleasuring himself to thoughts… of me. Oh, Goddess forgive me… _

Yet still he couldn’t look away. He wondered what the Ignatz in Ashe’s imagination was like. Was he rough and commanding, or gentle and tender? Did he plant kisses on each of the archer’s freckles before giving him the barest of touches, or did he waste no time and simply take Ashe in his mouth and bring him to bliss? Ignatz longed to know that as much as he longed to be the one bringing the silver-haired archer such pleasure.

Leaning towards the open window, Ignatz breathed softly, “Come for me, Ashe. Show me what heaven looks like.”

As if he heard the painter above his own moans, Ashe came, spilling himself on his chest with staccato breaths. Ignatz bit his lip to keep from moaning at the sight of the archer, body flushed and slick with sweat. He had to force himself to tear his eyes away before Ashe regained his senses, picking up his art supplies and hurrying away before he was found out.

Ignatz swore that he would apologize in the morning. At least for one night, he would enjoy the sights he’d been gifted.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ashe approached his open window hesitantly as he cleaned himself off. He hadn’t meant to have the curtain askew, but when he caught sight of light green hair and glasses through lidded eyes, the archer was almost glad for the breeze. Ashe pined for the shy artist, and somehow, knowing Ignatz was watching had stoked the fire in his loins even more.

Part of him had hoped the painter would speak up, so that Ashe had an excuse to invite him in. It wasn’t the most knightly thing to do, but the archer always seemed to lose his nerve if Ignatz didn’t approach him first. Looking out the window, though, his heart fell when he saw neither hide nor hair of the shy painter.

_ I should probably apologize for not saying anything, _ Ashe lamented as he closed the curtains for the night.  _ Well, at least I hope Ignatz enjoyed the show. And I’ll talk with him tomorrow. Yes, that sounds like a good plan. _

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and critiques are greatly appreciated.


End file.
